


Acquiescence

by sternfleck



Series: Arcana Imperii [6]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Armitage Hux in Lingerie, Chancellor Hux, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Humiliation, Inappropriate Use of the Force, KHK Prompt Fill, Kylux Hard Kinks, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Armitage Hux, Praise Kink, Service Top Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Title Kink, awkward kink negotiations, except it's First Order propaganda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24282433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternfleck/pseuds/sternfleck
Summary: The Supreme Leader’s new gifts for Hux lead them to discover the best use for the Chancellor’s propaganda speeches.Set in the world of “Duel of the Fates,” the leaked alternate script for Episode 9. Like all works in this series, this fic stands alone.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Arcana Imperii [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694788
Comments: 14
Kudos: 80





	Acquiescence

**Author's Note:**

> The KHK prompt: “Kylo shaming Hux after Armitage gets his nice silk panties all wet with pre-come after all Kylo did was talk dirty at him. Ren smears the wet patch over Hux’s cock, driving Hux crazy with need.”
> 
> So, I’ve wanted to write this prompt for a while, but I couldn’t face an entire fic of Kylo’s typical “I was watching bad holoporn when I should have been in Jedi school” brand of bedroom conversation. Then the peerless [surrenderer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrenderer/pseuds/surrenderer) reminded me of the bit earlier in this series where Kylo quotes from one of Hux’s speeches, and my path was clear at last. Is this better than Kylo's bad dirty talk? Is it worse? It's both! But Hux is into it, so... 
> 
> Forgive me, OP, for adding heaps of extra kink to your prompt, which was perfect already. I have no excuse but depravity and poor impulse control.

There are two items in the bag from the boutique on the other side of Coruscant. One is unyielding, and one is delicate. One is made of cold glass, and one is of silk and lace. One is packaged in a hard shell of plasteel, the other folded neatly into tissue. Both items were expensive, not that the Supreme Leader of the Galaxy can bring himself to care about such a mundane concern as cost.

Both items are intended for Hux’s ass, which has been in Kylo’s thoughts since before his command shuttle docked at the First Order Capitol. But thoughts of Hux’s ass have been a constant in Kylo’s life over the past ten years. And of Hux’s lips, and his fierce eyes, and his little cock that gets so hard under Kylo’s attentions, and the noises Hux makes, messy and desperate, when he’s on the edge of giving up his precious self-control.

Kylo’s mind is always a shadowed chasm, clouded with his own torment and that of others, but when he lingers in his memories of Hux, there’s order there, and calm. And lust, tight as a cable, always pulling Kylo out of the places inside himself where he could fall. There are many pieces of Kylo’s life now that draw him back from the self-destruction he wallowed in when he was a younger man, but Hux is the brightest of these, and the most consistently distracting.

Hux ignores Kylo’s arrival in the bedroom. “Supreme Leader,” he says by way of curt greeting, but neglects to glance up from his datapad.

He’s typing, his white fingers flashing over the screen. Hux doesn’t usually work in bed, not anymore, except for this: to write his speeches, late at night, tucked up beneath the hexagonal viewport that shows him the lights of Coruscant and, beyond, the faint stars.

Hux likes to claim his every action is for the pure good of the Order, but Kylo recognises the self-indulgence in Hux’s speech-writing routine. Any senior officer could compose speeches for Hux to deliver, but Hux writes his own, simply because he enjoys it.

Brow furrowed, Hux bares his teeth as he types. Kylo watches from the edge of the room, unhurried. Hux is challenging invisible enemies, laying waste to the Resistance in his own way. He’s no warrior, not like Kylo—Hux’s shoulders are narrow and soft where they rise bare above the top of his thick duvet—but the Chancellor has the rage of battle on his face. It’s mesmerising to watch him at work, when he hits upon a phrase that leaves him breathless, or bites his tongue when searching for a word.

Kylo mocks Hux for his physical weakness, his inexperience with genuine war. But Hux’s words have steered the First Order as surely as Kylo’s victories in the field. Just as Hux celebrates with harsh kisses when Kylo brings home new battle scars, so Kylo pays tribute to his Chancellor’s speeches.

When Kylo travels far from the Capitol on his missions to uncover the secrets of the Dark Side, he hides in his shuttle bunk to watch Hux’s glittering hologram as he speaks of the treachery of the Resistance, the might of the First Order, and the primacy and power of the Supreme Leader. When on this latter subject, there’s always a smirk in Hux’s voice that Kylo alone can detect. The subtle insubordination makes Kylo lose himself every time, groaning, spilling hot ropes of white over his chest, his stomach, his hand.

When he started out, he watched Hux’s holospeeches for the forbidden quality of it. There’s an adolescent thrill in jerking himself to the Chancellor’s propaganda and imagining the soft lithe body hidden under Hux’s ridiculous array of coats and cloaks. Hux’s clipped voice, always supercilious. The way Hux speaks of the Resistance is too close to the way he speaks to Kylo, and it shouldn’t turn Kylo on, the degradation of it, but it does, it does. Kylo, after all, was born of Rebel scum. When he’s tugging his cock while Hux rails against the degenerate morals of the fallen Republic, there’s a small shameful part of Kylo that’s still convinced Hux is talking about him.

But the side effect of this habit is that Kylo has begun to pick up verbal tics that once belonged solely to Hux. Thanks to the Force, Kylo has always had an inconvenient memory, one that holds tight to things he would rather forget. The result of this is that Kylo’s thoughts are now laced with Huxish words like “loathsome” and “precious” and “acquiesce.” Entire speeches stick in Kylo’s head and float to the top of his mind at inopportune moments. He’s always found it easy to get it up for Hux, but there was a time when Kylo could get through one of the Chancellor’s war room briefings without having to redirect his blood flow with the Force. Not anymore. Like any nameless soldier under the Chancellor’s command, Kylo has been conditioned—but it’s a far sweeter form of conditioning that’s brought Kylo to heel.

By the time Hux finishes typing his speech, Kylo has claimed his place on Hux’s bed, curled at Hux’s feet with the fussy little boutique bag half-crushed beneath his broad thigh. The damage doesn’t matter. The gifts inside won’t break, and the exterior will be ruined anyway when Hux tears the bag open. If Hux even wants his present. He seems content to ignore Kylo in favour of his work for the Order, which, in a terrible way, is erotic in itself.

Setting his datapad aside at last, Hux raises his arms above his head, long and languid, and extends his legs under the duvet until his feet hit Kylo’s chest. The dark duvet slips down to Hux’s waist, and he surveys Kylo coldly. Kylo’s eyes stick on his pale chest, where Hux’s little pink nipples are hardening in the bedchamber’s cool air.

“What’s that you’ve brought me, Supreme Leader? Another Force artefact for my research?”

Kylo shakes his head. Tosses the bag at Hux, who doesn’t attempt to catch it. It lands in the Chancellor’s lap and he upends it over the duvet. Hux reaches for the tissue-wrapped parcel, but Kylo halts his hands with the Force.

“Not that one. Open the other first.”

Hux’s nose twitches. He stretches out his fingers when Kylo releases his hold, as though the touch of the Force was an imposition, which is insulting. Kylo knows it feels good when he touches Hux with the Force in his playful way. Hux has told him as much, in words as well as with the moans and sighs he pours into the air when Kylo presses Force-kisses everywhere on his skin. But tonight Hux isn’t in the mood, not yet. He’s detached, in a Galaxy of his own, still lost in his newly written speech.

Kylo will bring him back to Coruscant.

“Open your gifts in the ‘fresher,” Kylo decides, changing his mind. He slides the door across the chamber open with the Force, making the lights inside the refresher flare to life. “When you see them, you’ll know what to do. I don’t want to wait.”

“You’re assertive tonight, Supreme Leader. Only two standard days away from my bed and you’re already giving orders?”

Kylo doesn’t take the bait. Hux may be bossy and convinced of his own righteousness, but there are times when Kylo knows best. This is one of them.

Hux restores his wrapped gifts to their bag and rises to depart. He digs below the duvet until he finds one of his silk robes, which he must have worn to bed earlier and removed before Kylo’s return. This one is pale grey, a pearly colour like a Star Destroyer. Hux drapes it around his shoulders like a cape. He says he chills easily, but Kylo knows better. The Chancellor likes his fine clothes because he’s vain, far too in love with himself in every way. Kylo’s attentions—and his habit of bringing Hux gifts—haven’t helped matters.

Kylo catches Hux by the wrist as he’s leaving for the ‘fresher. For a second, a question hangs in Hux’s eyes, before it resolves into something almost fond. He stands close, as close as he’s always stood to Kylo, even when they were only co-commanders of the _Finalizer_ and had no reason to brush fingers and shoulders at every opportunity.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux murmurs. “You’ve returned.”

Hux isn’t one to state the obvious, but when he leans in to kiss Kylo, open mouth grazing over Kylo’s lips, his meaning is clear. There are many ways the Chancellor says tender things, and he makes sure none of them sound tender at all. He tips Kylo’s head up with the back of his hand and kisses him like Kylo tastes delicious. Under his chin, Hux’s signet ring presses the emblem of the First Order into Kylo’s skin.

While Hux is in the ‘fresher, Kylo undresses down to his leggings, and resists the urge to spy on Hux through the Force. He knows Hux will like his gifts, and it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t—Kylo never gives Hux anything that doesn’t serve his own ends too. To see Hux attired in his new wares will be enough of a treat.

But Kylo does skim the surface of Hux’s mind long enough to catch a glimpse of the latest numeric passcode for the Chancellor’s datapad. He settles back in Hux’s bed, in the spot where Hux’s slender body has warmed the sheets. He wants to read Hux’s new speech.

Hux loathes it when Kylo goes through his personal tech. But this is another one of his many irrational irritations. Kylo reads Hux’s mind, after all, and spends more time inside Hux’s ass than in his own quarters. They have no secrets from each other, not after five years ruling the Order and ten years in each other’s beds. The Chancellor’s datapad is boring, anyway. Only endless reports on Order finances, logistics, supply chains, prisoner sentencing, military strategy. Books on engineering and on tactics of state repression. Sometimes Kylo wonders if Hux has ever had an interesting thought in his life, but then, Kylo is the one breaking into Hux’s datapad to read the Chancellor’s speech.

It’s for an execution, like the one Hux presided over this morning when Kylo was in his shuttle returning home. Another farewell to some inconsequential prisoner, useless to the Order alive or dead. But the public executions sow terror among those who might otherwise turn to the Resistance. They attest to the might of the Empire Kylo has built with his brilliant, pretty Chancellor.

A catch of breath, barely audible, emanates from the ‘fresher. The rustle of tissue. Water running. After a long moment, a faint moan. So, Hux is following orders after all. Kylo uses the Force to magnify the sound, to hear Hux making first use of his gifts.

Phrases from Hux’s new speech flit through Kylo’s distraction as he listens to the noises Hux is making on the other side of the ‘fresher door. _“Though the First Order has silenced his cause and suppressed all rebellion in the Galaxy, this traitor...”_

A whine, and a slick, filthy sound. Lubricant leaving the bottle. _“The Supreme Leader will lay waste to all those who defy our Empire.”_ Behind the ‘fresher door, a whispered oath, a curse, and after, a needy plea. Perhaps Hux knows Kylo is listening, and is putting on a show.

Each line of the speech is easy to hear in Hux’s voice. _“...Reigns from the Core Worlds to the farthest stars. The Galaxy bows to the power of the First Order, and all who oppose us shall perish like the traitor you see before you.”_ From the ‘fresher, ragged breaths. The sound of something tipping over on the counter and being set back in its rightful place.

 _“Those who cling to the past shall be erased, as we have erased the last vestige of the corrupted Republic.”_ A soft gasp, then another, and a moan. Then, silence. _“The strength of our Empire is without match and beyond measure.”  
_

Kylo shoves Hux’s datapad aside and waits, hard in his leggings and breathless from Hux’s words. The ‘fresher door opens. Hux emerges, draped in his silk robe again, eyes dark, head high.

“Take that off,” Kylo says, with more petulance than he intended. “I didn’t bring you gifts so you could hide them under your clothes.”

Hux’s nostrils flare his disdain for Kylo’s orders. “Patience, Supreme Leader. We both know I’m worth waiting for.”

He makes his way to the bedside, stepping carefully, and stands there, bare feet buried in the fussy fur rug. It’s a mystery to Kylo how Hux can manage to look so breathtakingly regal even with his knobby knees, his pinched expression, the sparse copper-gold hair on his calves that fades to nothing on his thighs.

But then Hux shrugs back his shoulders and the robe drifts to the bedchamber floor, and Kylo has no space in his head to wonder about anything at all.

The new silk briefs look better on Hux than Kylo could have imagined. They fit as though they were made to the Chancellor’s delicate measurements. They’re high-waisted, their colour somewhere between sea-green and blaster grey, like Hux’s eyes. The sides are two panels of fine lace in the same hue, with another column of lace up the back. The design is simple, without the straps or frills found on some of Hux’s other undergarments. But the quality is clear. The silk is tight on Hux in the right places, showing off the sharp lines of his hips and ribs and the small soft swell of his belly. Under the taut silk, Hux’s cock is half-hard, arranged to point up towards his chest.

As Kylo looks him over, Hux turns around and bends neatly at the waist. He flips down the waistband of his underwear. Then, with deliberate care, he parts his cheeks to show Kylo his second gift: the fat glass plug that’s filling him up and spreading open the pink round of his hole.

Hux glances over his shoulder, a strand of hair falling across his forehead out of his neat style. “Do you approve of the use I’ve made of your gifts, Supreme Leader?”

As if Hux needs to ask. Kylo’s breath is stopped somewhere below his throat, his body flaring with heat. He could stare forever at Hux’s hole, the pink inside, the way the tight furl of muscle clings around the glass, as though Hux’s body is welcoming the stretch of it. But Kylo manages to blink his head clear and regain some self-control.

Without answering Hux’s question, Kylo slides across the sheets to lift Hux by the waist into his lap. Hux hisses at the surprise embrace, and turns to straddle Kylo as soon as they’re in bed. Except when he’s at the edge of sleep or of orgasm, Hux always tries to maintain a position of relative power.

When Hux perches over Kylo’s broad thighs, he stoops to kiss Kylo. But as the Chancellor shifts, his knee hits the edge of the datapad, which is no longer on the bedside table where he left it. Hux draws back. His eyebrows twitch together.

“You’ve been snooping,” Hux observes, and Kylo doesn’t bother to deny it, only meets Hux’s eyes and runs his hands up and down Hux’s waist, over silk and lace and hot soft skin.

“Do you suspect me of untoward behaviour, Supreme Leader? There’s no need to monitor my communications. It’s not as though I’m really a spy.”

Hux’s tone is teasing. They’ve played at spies before—the Supreme Leader punishing his errant Chancellor for treachery—but the game is mainly an excuse for Kylo to spank Hux, which Hux likes much more than Kylo would expect. In addition, there’s something absurd and intriguing in the idea of Hux, of all people, betraying the First Order. To play at it in bed only makes the Chancellor’s devotion to their Empire more evident after. There are few things in the Galaxy better than Hux, sore and well-fucked, hazy-eyed, draped on Kylo’s chest, murmuring his eternal loyalty to the Order and the Empire they share.

“I read your speech,” says Kylo. He enjoys the surprise that crosses Hux’s features at this admission.

“My speech? When did you start paying attention to anything I say?”

“I liked it. I even understood the big words.”

Kylo isn’t stupid, not in the slightest, but it turns Hux on when he pretends. So he pouts and blinks up at his Chancellor in a vacant, beguiling way.

As Kylo expected, this spurs Hux to lean closer. Hux slips one hand through the Supreme Leader’s hair, stroking his temple and pressing his nose to Kylo’s forehead. “Mmm. Tell me what I wrote, then, Supreme Leader. Can you remember?”

Kylo slides his hands down to Hux’s ass, dragging his fingers slowly along the panel of lace above Hux’s cleft, above his hole. He taps the plug, hard, once. Hux jerks in his arms, exhaling sharply.

“You said I lay waste to traitors,” Kylo murmurs, eyes downcast. “You said we’re erasing the past and ending all who oppose the First Order. Our Empire has matchless power. The Galaxy belongs only to us.”

The speech was better in Hux’s words, but Kylo doesn’t feel like quoting directly. Hux doesn’t need to know how much time Kylo spends with his hologram when the Supreme Leader is away from Coruscant. If he ever found out, he’d lord it over Kylo. Hux would humiliate him for his attachment. So Kylo delivers his summary of the speech in an idle tone, pretending like he doesn’t care.

Hux tugs Kylo’s hair lightly to tilt his face up, to look at him. Hux’s lips are parted, and a hot flush blooms on his cheeks. Kylo glances down again to Hux’s narrow chest, to his stiff nipples, then lower. Just from Kylo’s summary of his words, Hux is fully hard now, his cock swollen under the elegant silk.

“You like to hear about the First Order,” Kylo says, voice low. He doesn’t need to read Hux’s mind to know the truth of that. But he brings his eyes back up to meet Hux’s, and the Chancellor nods. His breathing is quick, his pupils wide.

Kylo slides his hands up Hux’s body and turns him over on his back. He pins him to the bed with a Force-hold on his chest. Hux lets out his breath in a shocked little moan. But he doesn’t protest.

Instead, he blinks up at Kylo and says, “Tell me your plans for our Empire, Supreme Leader.”

“You’re the one who has plans. I don’t need plans. The Force provides for me.”

“If you talk about the Force, Ren, that will have the opposite of the result you’re after,” Hux warns. “Make something up. Remind me of our power.”

Kylo hesitates. There’s something awkward about this line of talk, but it’s electrifying, too.

“Do your officers know you beg for me to tell you about the might of the First Order? Are you hard in your uniform when they fire your little superweapons for you?”

Hux squirms in Kylo’s Force-grip, lifting his hips. He wants to be touched.

“I’m not a fetishist,” he says, in weak self-defence. “I can control myself. It doesn’t interfere with my work.”

“What about when you give your speeches? I bet you go to an empty stateroom after. To touch yourself for relief.”

Kylo is in risky territory here, accusing Hux of his own perversions. But Hux isn’t socially perceptive by nature. He won’t guess that’s what Kylo is up to. What’s more, if he did find out Kylo jerks himself to First Order propaganda, the worst of it would be the Chancellor’s insufferable smugness, which is already a standard feature of their life together.

Instead of denying this accusation or turning it back at Kylo, Hux bites his lip. He moves his hands down between their bodies, towards his cock. But Kylo doesn’t want Hux touching himself, not yet. With the Force, Kylo stops Hux’s hands and draws them over his head, pinning them there on Hux’s pillow with a Force-hold to each slim wrist. Hux’s eyes darken further, and he stares up at Kylo as though hypnotised.

Kylo draws back, to get a better view of Hux laid out for him, pinned down, dressed in this scant finery of Kylo’s choosing. There’s already a wet spot on Hux’s new underwear where the head of his stiff cock has leaked pre-come. The wetness turns the green silk grey as durasteel, and under it, Hux is still as hard as ever, still leaking for Kylo and his teasing words.

“You’ll ruin your new panties,” Kylo observes. “Your little prick is getting them all wet.”

Hux’s nose twitches, the colour in his cheeks deepening at the humiliation. The wet stain is growing, and Kylo has the urge to run his thumb over the smooth silk, tracing a firm line down the underside of Hux’s cock, where he’s most sensitive. But he doesn’t, not yet. Soon. First, Kylo wants to tease Hux, to have his fun.

Daring, Kylo says, “The First Order’s Imperial dominion has brought strong governance to every star, planet, and system, from the Unknown Regions to the Galactic Core.”

This is a direct quote from Hux’s morning speech, the one Kylo pleasured himself to. Hux stares, eyebrows high, before he schools his features back to their previous state of restrained lust.

“You’re quoting me,” the Chancellor says, as though he can scarcely believe it.

At the thought, Hux’s cock twitches in his underwear, leaking more pre-come. His arousal has a scent, faintly musky, like fresh sweat with a bitter edge.

“You’re quoting my speech,” Hux repeats, breaking Kylo’s reverie. “Supreme Leader, I—”

“The Galaxy prospers under our Empire,” Kylo blurts, emboldened by Hux’s astonishment. “No longer do countless worlds languish under the threat of war. But the Resistance are building the architecture for a return to Galactic disorder. They claim the First Order denies the Galaxy its freedom. There is no freedom to be found in chaos. The dominance of our Empire ensures stability for all worlds under the banner of the First Order.”

“Fuck,” Hux murmurs, breathless.

All Hux’s cold resistance has dissolved. His eyes are intense, pleading, and in his Force presence, there’s desire stronger than any Kylo has felt from him in months. But Hux doesn’t bark out orders, or move to rub against Kylo’s thigh where it sits between his. He lies there under Kylo, leaking into his lace panties, his lips flushed dark, his hole stretched around his new plug. His legs are parted. He looks compliant, like he’s waiting to be fucked open and claimed.

He looks...almost sweet. There’s something in his unguarded eyes that could pass for affection. It makes a wild swell of longing rise in Kylo’s chest, until he’s practically giddy on it. If Kylo had known it was this easy to take Hux apart, he would have paid more attention to Hux’s speeches all along.

After a long moment, Hux’s eyes begin to clear, and a measure of his typical sharpness returns to them. But his voice is rough with lust when he speaks.

“Finally something else your mouth is good for, Supreme Leader.”

Kylo could take offence to this, and should. But he licks his lower lip instead, slicking it wet as he gazes into Hux’s blown-black eyes. Showing off.

Hux’s breath catches. His narrow chest twitches. His pretty pink nipples are so hard they must hurt.

“You want my mouth, Hux? Delivering your speeches? I knew you thought highly of yourself, Chancellor. But this is more than I expected.”

Hux’s nostrils flare, and his exhale is almost a moan. “It’s not vanity,” he whispers, hesitant. “I will admit I take pride in my work. But this...it’s...Supreme Leader, when did you start to listen to my...?”

“You didn’t think I listened to you at all, did you, Chancellor? Does it get you off to know I watch you speak?”

“Ren, I, ah—”

With Hux helpless under him, Kylo is getting heedless. His old fears are slipping away.

“I touched myself on my shuttle this morning. I jerked off to your holo when you oversaw that execution. Came all over myself when you gave the order to drop the lightblade.”

Hux is wild-eyed now, and each breath sounds like it’s torn out of him. “Ren, fuck, ah, please fucking touch me, Supreme Leader, don’t just talk.”

“You like me talking, Hux. The Force shows me your need.”

Hux’s eyes fall shut and his lips twitch and twist in a silent curse. He’s still bucking his hips into the empty air, and Kylo has an impulse to move his Force-grip lower, to add pressure to Hux’s middle, forcing him to stay still. But Hux is beautiful when he’s desperate. No one else has seen Hux like this. He’s never allowed it. This unrestrained lust is purely for Kylo.

“You love this,” Kylo marvels, brushing his hair back out of his eyes. “You love it so much you’re ruining your present. Is it our Empire that makes you wet like this? You can’t even control yourself, Chancellor.”

“I’m at your mercy, Supreme Leader,” says Hux, voice hoarse with need.

Words Kylo never thought he would hear from Hux’s spiteful lips. Somehow, completely by accident, Kylo has found the secret path to Hux’s acquiescence. It’s a new thrill, a harsh one, strange. A privilege, to see the Chancellor laid out in silk and lace, offering himself with no conditions. Kylo’s cock aches at the revelation.

“The Supreme Leader is not without mercy for those who assist the First Order’s aims.” Kylo quotes from this morning’s speech. He draws his hands up Hux’s hips, over his soft stomach.

Hux gasps, keens, squirms into Kylo’s touch with as much motion as the Force-hold will allow. The muscles of his belly twitch under his soft skin, and Kylo strokes Hux there, slipping his fingertips below the ornate waistband of Hux’s underwear. His fingers are so close to where Hux wants them, but Hux doesn’t order Kylo to touch his cock, doesn’t even plead for it. He simply shuts his eyes and breathes rapidly, each breath heavy as a sigh.

“Do you want to be fucked, pretty Chancellor?” Kylo strokes Hux’s stomach again, his fingertips wet where Hux has dripped all over himself. “You’re being so good. I’ve never seen you like this. Like a good little soldier for your Supreme Leader.”

Hux’s face twists at the condescension. His hips twitch, and for a moment, Kylo thinks Hux is about to come. But the Chancellor’s eyes fall open again and he catches his breath.

“Ren, ah, tell me about our Empire, ah, fuck. How we rule every star. It’s all ours.”

“Pretty Hux,” Kylo murmurs again, drawing his hands up Hux’s stomach, over his ribs. His skin is impossibly soft. “If I had known you felt this way about our Empire, I would have given you the Galaxy years before. If it would make you wet for me like this.”

Hux bares his throat and bites his lip. He's always weak for praise, when Kylo deigns to offer it. His eyelids are heavy, and he’s messy like this, absolutely wrecked, from the flush on his cheeks and chest to the pre-come on his silk underwear to the way his copper-and-silver hair is all rucked up against his dark pillowcase. He’s not even struggling against the grip of the Force. It’s unlike Hux to give Kylo even a moment’s surrender. But of course the key to Hux would be his own words, thrown back at him from Kylo’s mouth, the mouth Hux loves to fuck and kiss.

“Ah, you should, ahh, give a speech.” Hux can hardly speak, and he’s looking at Kylo the way he looks at his armies, his weapons, his sky full of stars.

Kylo leans over him, astride Hux’s thighs, one hand planted on either side of Hux’s chest. Kylo’s cock is hard enough that he can feel his pulse in the head of it, distracting him. Soon he’ll fuck Hux, he reassures himself. Hux is already slick and plugged open, ready. The stretch of the plug inside him must be making Hux leak even more. Every time Hux moves his hips, it’s a tease against his prostate. But Hux wears plugs often, and he never leaks enough pre-come to soak his underclothes without a touch. This display tonight is all from what Kylo’s been saying to him.

“You think I should give a speech.”

Hux nods, with effort.

“For the First Order. Like one of yours.”

“Yes, ah.” Hux arches his back, flicking his hips up again. “You’re...earnest. You’re, ah. So serious. Everyone in the Galaxy would believe you.”

“They already believe you. Only fools and scum could doubt the power of the First Order.”

Hux inhales slowly, eyelids fluttering. “I want you to. I want you to tell them.”

Kylo doesn’t have much interest in Order pageantry. He prefers to rule from the shadows. His Dark Side pursuits require no titles or public ceremony, only solitude and silence and the occasional long bloodbath on a planet that still harbours loyalty to the Jedi ways. Moreover, Kylo still has a certain youthful shyness. He may not wear his battle helmet every day anymore, but when he talks, he keeps his sentences short lest he stumble over his words.

But if it would get Hux to this place he’s in right now, where he’s on the verge of coming untouched...Kylo could be persuaded to speak to the Empire.

“What would I tell them, Chancellor? Fuck, you’re perfect like this. Desperate for me.”

“Ah, please, Supreme Leader. Tell them about our power. What—what we’ve done together. For the, ah, for the Galaxy, please, stars, fuck.”

“I’d think about this the whole time, though. You, under me, begging. Your lips. Your speeches. Fuck, Hux.”

“ _Oh._ ” It’s a long sound from Hux’s pretty lips, breathy and plaintive. He’s looking into Kylo’s eyes with dark intensity, like he’s hungry for the deepest parts of Kylo, like he’ll never look away. “Please touch me, Supreme Leader. I’m so close for you.”

“Why would I touch you when I could make you ruin your new underwear just by talking about the First Order?”

Hux’s nose twitches. It’s half a flinch. Through the Force, Kylo can feel Hux’s humiliation. But Hux’s shame at his own arousal only drives it higher.

“I serve the First Order, oh, Kylo, it’s...please...ah—”

For the first time, Hux struggles against his Force bonds. He really is close. Kylo strokes his soft belly again, up to the edge of Hux’s nipples. Hux spits a curse, slim hips bucking, eyes rolling back.

Kylo grazes his thumbs across Hux’s nipples, which are impressively hard. He searches for what to say next, even as he revels in his power over Hux, which he’s never been quite sure how to use. Hux hardly ever lets him use it, but now Hux is giving him this wild compliance, like a gift Kylo might not deserve but will take anyway.

A line from Hux’s newly drafted speech rises to mind at last. “The strength of our Empire is without match and beyond measure,” Kylo whispers, stroking Hux’s nipples again.

“Ah—Kylo,” Hux says, voice weak.

Then Hux’s eyes scrunch shut and his back arches, muscles going taut. He comes in his lacy briefs with his lips open and his hips twitching and his chest hot under Kylo’s fingertips.

Kylo watches the stain spread dark under the silk, spurt after spurt of come from Hux’s pretty prick. Hux makes helpless little cries with each spasm of pleasure, tossing his head. His hair falls onto his forehead, copper and silver, elegant and debauched.

Only when Hux’s hips are still does Kylo, at last, touch him where he wants.

“Fuck,” Hux protests, as Kylo smears the slick wet silk across his softening cock. “ _Now_ you want to touch me? Kriffing, nnh, _fuck_ , you kriffing sadist.”

“So sensitive, Chancellor. You deserve this. For ruining your present.”

“Ah, Ren—please, you’re equally responsible.”

Hux squirms under his touch, trying to move away, but Kylo is ruthless. He palms Hux, savouring the sticky heat that seeps up through the silk and lace. Hux gasps and makes a high squeak through his nose, overwhelmed with too much sensation. Hux’s chest is still heaving, and his arousal is still dark in his eyes.

With a wave of his hand, Kylo lifts his Force-hold on Hux’s arms and chest, and Hux stretches, inhaling deeply. He drapes his arms around Kylo’s neck, fingers through his hair. Kylo lies on top of Hux and pulls down his leggings, so his aching cock can rest bare against the warm slick spot where Hux has made a mess of himself.

“You didn’t have to restrain me,” Hux says into Kylo’s ear, breathy and mild. “But it was...ah. It wasn’t bad at all.”

“You like to be at my mercy, Chancellor?”

“Well. You were being professional,” Hux specifies. “Saying the things a good Supreme Leader ought to say.”

“I was quoting you, Hux.” Kylo draws back to see Hux’s face, unsure whether to scowl or laugh.

Hux is smirking. “Exactly.”

Typical.

“I’m fucking you now,” Kylo announces, taking Hux by the waist. “Insolent. You need a big cock up your ass to shut you up.”

“That’s never failed to silence me in the past,” says Hux with thick sarcasm, wriggling in anticipation as Kylo tugs his ruined panties down and spreads his legs wide. “Though I think you prefer me loud, Supreme Leader.”

“Is that a promise? Will you scream for me, Chancellor?”

Hux scoffs. “You know my rules, Ren. Earn it.”

“Can’t believe you just came and you still want me to fuck you,” says Kylo indistinctly as he licks the come away from Hux’s cock, which is soft now, but no less appealing for that.

“What, Supreme Leader, ah, are you hoping I’ll beg for it? Stars, keep doing that,” he adds. Kylo is nosing at the base of his cock, licking down Hux’s sac on the way to his hole.

“You like to beg. Anything to hear the sound of your own voice.”

Kylo presses the pad of his thumb to the place between Hux’s balls and his hole. The skin there is still slick with lube from Hux’s preparations. Kylo rolls his thumb, and Hux rewards him with a harsh cry of pleasure. Hux’s hands are clenched in the sheets, held motionless, as though he wouldn't mind having Kylo’s Force-grip on him again.

“Ah, it’s not my voice, Supreme Leader. Not, _fuck_ , not tonight. You do know _why_ I lost control of myself, don’t you? With, ah, with what you were saying to me.”

Kylo lifts his mouth away from Hux’s cock to meet his eyes. Shifts his hands up to Hux’s hips, stroking the soft hollows of Hux’s narrow hipbones. “I thought you were being good. Knowing your place. Instead of acting like this is your Empire instead of mine.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t prefer me this way,” Hux retorts lightly, still breathless. “You wouldn’t know what to do with me if you _were_ my master, Ren.”

This is true enough. When Hux does go pliant underneath him, like he did tonight, Kylo struggles to keep his composure. It’s not in Kylo's nature to take command, in spite of the great power his destiny has thrust upon him. Tonight it was a kind of salvation to hide behind Hux’s speeches, to play a role. It’s easier that way, to reach into his memories with the Force and have something ready to say.

Hux, sweetly condescending, puts his fingers to Kylo’s hair, stroking his head in that way that takes Kylo instantly to a place of obedience. With all his power in the First Order, with all his strength in the Force, Kylo can never refuse when Hux instructs him like this, like he’s training Kylo and seducing him all at once.

“I’m telling you what made me come all over myself,” Hux says, “because I want you to do it again. I’ll show you how. I want you to leave me absolutely wrecked, Kylo. Can you do that?”

“Tell me,” says Kylo, his heart beating harder at the thought.

“It’s the First Order.” Of course it is. Everything comes down to the Order, for Hux. “I know you’ve only ever been loyal to yourself and to the Force, but _stars_ , if you _were_ loyal to the Order, think of what we could do. All the ruin in Coruscant’s streets, all the rebellion seething on distant planets...snuffed out. We’d bring true order to the Galaxy forever. When you talk like you’re the voice of the First Order...” Hux trails off, pinches his lips together, scrunches his nose. He’s embarrassed. “Well. You know I serve the First Order, Supreme Leader. With my mind and with my body.”

Kylo frowns. How could Hux question Kylo’s loyalty? Kylo has never cared much about the Order, true, but he’s never wavered from Hux, which is what should matter more than his allegiance to some boring war machine.

“I’m loyal to you.”

“That’s because I meet your needs, Supreme Leader." It's just like Hux to pretend that's all this is. An arrangement of convenience. As though Kylo can't read Hux's true allegiances. He's chosen Kylo for all these years, even when Kylo made choices that were wrong for the Order and for Hux. Even when Hux had every reason to oppose him.

"I’m not criticising your predilection for Force mysticism over military might," Hux continues. "I’m simply sharing a fantasy that has already provided me with significant pleasure tonight. I advise you to join in.”

“You want to serve the First Order.” Kylo resumes his stroking of Hux’s hipbones, admiring the way it makes Hux squirm and shut his eyes.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” Hux whispers through bitten lips. “Tell me about our Empire. Use me for your pleasure. I belong to the Order.”

Stars. Kylo would do anything for Hux when he’s like this. Hux’s cock is starting to get hard again, just from the thought of giving himself completely to some abstract idea of Kylo’s Empire. Kylo should resist this reductive game of his. He should be reminding Hux that he’s more than his title as Supreme Leader, more than the spoils of war he lays at Hux’s feet. But in the end, what is Kylo apart from his deeds? If this is what makes Hux come apart, well, it’s not as though Kylo isn’t aching too.

“You’re open for me already, aren’t you?” Kylo murmurs. “I only have to take this out.”

He sharply taps the base of the glass plug inside Hux. Hux’s eyes shut, his lips pinching tightly together. He looks almost pained, but Kylo knows better. Hux is overstimulated. His dizzy excess of pleasure radiates into the Force all around him, hitting Kylo like an aphrodisiac in the air. If Kylo endures any more of it, he won’t be able to hold back from burying himself inside Hux and fucking him roughly, which, he supposes, is what Hux wants. Hux’s desire for it draws Kylo in, like an inexorable spell.

But Kylo wants Hux desperate for him first. He likes holding back, bringing Hux to the edge again and again. If Hux wants to play at giving himself to the First Order, Kylo is going to make it worth his while.

He tugs the glass plug in and out of Hux, just a few times, swirling it so that the ridged head rubs Hux inside. The lube Hux used to insert the plug has begun to dry, and he makes a tense noise at the friction. Hux’s cock is nearly full again, rising from its neat patch of hair to rest attractively against Hux’s stomach. Kylo licks around the base of it, nuzzling the shaft. At the same time, he eases the plug free of Hux’s hole and sets it aside, enjoying the way Hux’s eyes go glassy at the sudden emptiness.

“We’ll bend every planet in the Galaxy to our will, won’t we, Chancellor? The people worship us. We’ll show them how worthless the Resistance traitors truly are.”

These aren’t Hux’s words, but Kylo’s own. He’s taking a risk, departing from the script. Getting creative. He keeps his gaze on Hux’s face, to see his Chancellor’s reaction.

Hux’s mouth quirks. His eyes are alight, as though they’re sharing a private joke together.

“Yes, Supreme Leader,” whispers Hux, but for once it isn’t resentful or ironic or mocking. It rings through the air like praise. Like Kylo has made the right choice.

“What are you willing to give for our Empire?” Kylo murmurs, stroking his nose along the soft inside of Hux’s thigh. With the Force, he summons the bottle of lube from the nightstand, slicking his fingers.

“Ah, anything, Supreme Leader. You can fuck me. Come inside me, so I drip into my new knickers. Whatever you like.”

Kylo swirls one slick fingertip around the rim of Hux’s hole, enjoying the smoothness of it. The friction of the plug inside him has left Hux’s rim slightly puffy all around. There’s no resistance when Kylo slides two fingers inside. But when he scissors them open, Hux’s hand flies to his mouth to suppress a cry.

“What if I tease you and don’t give you what you want? How much of this can you take before you break down and start giving me orders again, Chancellor?”

“Supreme Leader, I—anything for the First Order. Please.”

Kylo slides a third finger into Hux. It’s not deep or angled enough to hit where Hux wants it, but the Chancellor still jerks and gasps and moves his hips downwards as though he could fuck himself onto Kylo’s fingers until he’s satisfied.

“That’s good. Good Hux. You’re the best of the Order, Chancellor. No one else gives as much as you do.”

Hux moans sharply at these words, awed eyes fixed on Kylo’s face. His cock is hard again, and it twitches against his soft belly, pink and pretty. Kylo brings his mouth down to the tip of it, licks around the edge of Hux’s drawn-back foreskin. He curls his fingers inside Hux, spreads them wide, savouring the slick heat and the way Kylo’s touch makes Hux toss his head back, hand over his mouth, lost to the sensation.

“Every star, Hux. Every world. Everything under the First Order’s power. Our power. All Light extinguished in the Galaxy. We’ve done this, you and I. No one can stand against us, Chancellor.”

Kylo nips at the soft skin in the shadow of Hux’s hipbone, sucking a bruise into his stomach as he continues to move his fingers shallowly in and out of Hux’s ass. Hux bites at his own fingers and squirms, making stifled noises of bliss. With the Force, Kylo pulls Hux’s hands away from his mouth and moves them to his chest.

“Play with your little tits,” he says. “The First Order commands it.”

“Supreme Leader, it’s too much, it’s—” Hux’s protests turn to a sweet moan as he takes Kylo’s suggestion and strokes his fingers across the tips of his nipples.

For a moment, Kylo simply watches Hux slip further into ecstasy. He quirks his fingers inside Hux and drives them deeper, skimming Hux’s prostate, so that Hux’s eyes fly wide, unseeing. Hux’s hands claw at his pale chest. His sharp nails leave pink lines where they slip across his skin.

Kylo gives a few last long licks to Hux’s cock, hungry as always for the taste of it, before he moves up Hux’s body, kissing as he goes. When Kylo pulls his fingers out of Hux, his hole makes a lewd noise, stretched and slack and ready. Hux whines at the emptiness.

When Kylo’s mouth reaches Hux’s collarbones, Hux turns his head to the side and offers his neck. Though the room’s air is cool, Hux’s skin is glazed with a film of sweat. Kylo licks it away as Hux writhes under him.

“The penalty for treachery to the First Order is death, isn’t it, Chancellor? Under your lightblade, the one you designed. So clever. My clever Hux.” Kylo kisses Hux’s jaw, and Hux, eyes shut, smiles slightly at the praise and wiggles his hips, brushing his cock against Kylo’s.

But this is no time for soft flirtations. Kylo has a point to make, and he wants an answer to his question. He grasps Hux lightly by the jaw and turns Hux’s head to face him directly.

“Answer me. What’s the penalty for treason, Hux?”

Hux blinks, dizzy at being pulled from his haze of lust. “Ah, it's execution, Supreme Leader. Why are you—?”

“Death is the fate you deal out to your traitors. But punishments have rewards to match them. What’s the reward for allegiance to the First Order? Isn’t _this_ what I’m owed for my loyalty?”

Kylo reaches down between Hux’s parted thighs, brushing over the Chancellor’s cock on his way down. Kylo’s fingers reach the edge of Hux’s hole again, circling it demonstratively.

Realisation dawns in Hux’s half-focused eyes, and his mouth falls open.

“Supreme Leader,” he whispers. “You’re not suggesting I’m a—a trophy for those who distinguish themselves in the service of our Empire?”

Even as he stares at Kylo in astonishment, Hux pushes his ass up into Kylo’s hand, trying to get Kylo’s fingers inside him. But Kylo refuses to fill him. Hux’s shocked indignation has driven Kylo’s arousal to a level he can no longer ignore. Hux isn’t getting any more from Kylo’s fingers. They can both ache for it until Kylo’s cock is inside him. Kylo is dripping pre-come against Hux’s leg, and he's ready to take Hux, not just tease him.

“No. Only for me, Chancellor. Only I deserve you. My loyalty to the First Order is unmatched. I’ve conquered the Galaxy in the Order's name. I’ve pulled every Rebel secret out of the minds of the prisoners you execute. I know your speeches by heart.”

Hux shifts under Kylo and spreads his legs wide, wrapping them around Kylo’s waist. There’s a terrible seriousness in Hux’s gaze as he fists his hand in Kylo’s hair and tugs. “Supreme Leader. Kylo. I have never, _never_ wanted you more than I do right now.”

“You want my cock inside you, Hux?”

The Chancellor bares his teeth, vicious and lovely. “I want all of you, Ren,” he says, eyes blazing like dark stars. “Fuck me until I’m sore. Claim your prize, you absolute terror. You’ve ruined me, Kylo. There could never be anyone else.”

That’s it. The order—the confession—Kylo has been waiting for.

Hux chokes on a gasp as Kylo drags the wet head of his cock across Hux’s entrance. Hux opens his mouth wide, to beg or to protest, but Kylo pushes into him in one strong thrust, and, at the same time, covers Hux’s mouth with a messy, probing kiss.

After denying himself for so long, the sloppy heat inside Hux’s body is bliss to Kylo. He moves his hips slowly at first, kissing Hux clumsily even as Hux moans into his mouth. It’s so good like this, with no rules, no hierarchies, only Hux naked underneath him, kissing him, wanting him.

Hux drags his nails up Kylo’s back, hard. Fists both hands in Kylo’s hair and pulls him away. His face is wild and sharp and desperate and keen as a blade.

“Harder,” Hux orders. “Hand on my cock. I don’t care if you come too soon, fuck, give it to me, please, I’m so terribly close.”

“Hux,” Kylo moans. His eyes shut at the painful pleasure of Hux’s grip on his hair.

“Harder, Supreme Leader, I—ah!”

Hux dissolves into sharp moans as Kylo fucks into him roughly, snarling, obedient. He pulls Kylo close, locking his ankles together at the small of Kylo’s back. Digs his fingers into the meat of Kylo’s shoulders. Kylo slides his hand between them and closes it around Hux’s cock, which is just the right size for his grip, and so impossibly hard, all because of Kylo.

The evidence of Hux’s pleasure begins to overwhelm Kylo, along with the spiralling desire heavy in the Force around them. He loses his rhythm, moaning wetly into Hux’s neck.

But Hux has command of himself, and, with surprising strength, he rolls them both over, straddling Kylo and bending low over him. Hux rides him at a relentless pace, hands on Kylo’s pecs, squeezing them hard enough to bruise. He gives Kylo’s nipples a rough twist, which is often what puts Kylo over the edge. But this time, Kylo is caught up in the sight of Hux’s savage face, the way Hux’s hair has fallen over his forehead all silver and copper and gold.

When Hux sneers down at Kylo with something like awe in his eyes, Kylo’s mouth goes dry. His hips stutter, muscles going slack, then tense, and he comes, hard. Kylo's mind is vivid inside, a Dark place made suddenly into a whirl of bright pleasure that’s almost too much to bear. He doesn’t scream, exactly, but his moan comes close. Hux rides him through his climax, tensing the muscles of his hole and crying _yes, yes_ as Kylo fills him.

Catching his breath, Kylo flickers a Force-impulse through Hux’s brain, so that Hux climaxes too, for the second time tonight. He only spurts weakly across Kylo’s belly, but the orgasm wracks his entire body and makes Hux grip his own thighs hard enough to leave bloodied little crescents where he’s driven his fingernails into his skin.

After, Hux collapses face-first onto Kylo’s chest, boneless, weak. Kylo’s cock is going soft inside Hux, and so Kylo reaches down to Hux’s leg, where the green silk briefs are still looped around the Chancellor's ankle. He pulls out of Hux and uses the wad of silk and lace to clean up the mess. Hux makes a noise and nuzzles into Kylo’s chest when Kylo brushes over his fucked-out hole.

Kylo tosses the soiled underwear to the floor, on top of his tunic. When he gets up, he’ll tuck them into the inner pocket, to take them with him on his next mission away from Coruscant. Like all his gifts for Hux, this one has been self-serving. But the Chancellor doesn’t seem to mind.

Kylo orders the lights down low and turns on his side, facing Hux. Hux pushes his head up under Kylo’s chin, giving Kylo a kiss in the divot at the base of his neck, where his sternum begins.

“Well done, Supreme Leader,” says Hux against Kylo’s skin, his voice gone ragged from all the pretty noises he’s made for Kylo tonight.

“Hux,” says Kylo, burying his nose in Hux’s hair.

There's nothing else to do tonight. No speeches to write, no enemies to tear apart. No excuses to make that would keep them out of each other's arms. Hux's legs are tangled with Kylo's, and his hands are flattened against Kylo's chest. It’s an ambiguous gesture: he could be pulling Kylo closer or pushing him away. But Hux doesn't move. He lies there, quiet, his Force-presence bright with tender feelings he'd loathe for Kylo to see.

The skies never truly get dark over Coruscant, and the sleepless city far below the Order Capitol sheds soft light into Hux’s rooms at all hours. So even with the lights at their lowest, there’s still enough light to see how, when he turns his face up to meet Kylo’s, Hux’s eyelashes flicker pale across his cheeks. And after Kylo kisses him, there’s still enough light to see the faint, satisfied, almost smug smile on the Chancellor's lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic while deep in one of my recurring Covid-19 fevers (I'm largely recovered from the virus, out of danger at least)...so I can only cross my fingers and hope it makes sense. Thank you for reading it. Nothing helps the sick time pass like Kylux fever dreams.
> 
> The true OT3 is Hux, Kylo, and their Empire. These gays have zero work-life balance.
> 
> Twitter: [sternfleck](https://twitter.com/sternfleck). Tumblr: [sternfleck](https://sternfleck.tumblr.com/). Followers: cherished.


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